Enthralled
by Shaestel
Summary: The Doctor visits the ancient planet Helheim. Following an attack on his life, and joined by a young native to the old planet, the Doctor is thrown into the chaotic downfall of the most composed, most established of planets.
1. Part One Prologue

**Enthralled**

_The Doctor visits the ancient planet Helheim, the planet known for chronicling and documenting the entirety of the universe and its history in its libraries; home to the Skalds, the great prophets and scholars of the universe, and their slaves, the Thralls. Following an attack on his life, and joined by a young native to the old planet, the Doctor is thrown into the chaotic downfall of the most composed, most established of planets._

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**Part One**

**Prologue**

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Edda emerged from her chambers pale and taut-lipped, her eyes wide for she was disturbed by what she might see when she closed them. Her hands were tightly clutching fistfuls of her gown, for she had little else to do with them, and she believed they would expose her fear should she leave them free to fidget. Her entire being trembled meekly – yet she continued on briskly, determined. Her forearms and thighs felt cold, her stomach heavy with a cool dread. Edda did not stop for anyone, raising a stern hand to those who asked for her attention and she carried on to the Great Library, ardent to record what she had just witnessed: what had disturbed her sleep in such a manner as to reduce her to a quaking, feeble shell. What had she seen had been the future – the inescapable truth, a promise of what was to come. An oncoming storm would arrive within a week, at most, and would destroy everything.

But time, much like their historic documents, could be altered. Re-written. The future could always be changed, steered off course, commandeered and rectified. Edda, swallowed the bitter saliva in her mouth. She knew she had to change such a future. Nothing could be clearer to her. It was as if she had thrust her head into icy water. She was burdened with a purpose, a duty, an unavoidable obligation to her home and her people. It was her responsibility, as the highest skald.

The sky was grey in Helheim that day, like thinned smoke from a dying campfire, dull and unattractive; unremarkable in every way. Helheim was not commonly graced with charming weather, but the bleakness of the cloudy sky was exceptionally disappointing. The air was chilled, breezy; pinching any exposed skin it came across, as the people went about their business. It was a calm day, normative; nothing out of the ordinary. The irony of such normalcy on this day was truly quite cruel. Of course, it was not completely ordinary everywhere, for if that were the case then there would be no story to tell.

Edda was a tall, spindly creature, with little meat on her bones, and even less colour in her cheeks. She'd seen four-hundred-and-seventy-two springs, and had never joined another in matrimony, nor had she ever had offspring. It was a shared opinion amongst many of the other skalds that if anyone's heredities were to carry on, it should be hers. She was not particularly beautiful – her face was thin and her eyes sunken, but she had a striking look about her, a look which commanded your attention for it was one that reminded you of her power. What makes Edda worth mentioning is that she was gifted with a sense of predicting the future, and that she will play a vital role in the story.

She was a Skald. Creatures blessed with a wisdom challenging even that of the Time Lords. They were peaceful, meticulous people, devoted to chronicling the events of the Universe, piece by piece. They were humanoid, with ivory white skin, and eyes black at the scleras, and yellow at the iris. Their lives were dictated by that of what was happening everywhere else, and their sole purpose was to write and study it. What for? Anybody's guess. Skalds treasured knowledge over everything else, and they were known all over the universe for their documenting of the history of everything, of time itself even. But nobody really knew why; or perhaps that answer, once known, is now simply lost to us like so much else is about the quiet world of the Skalds and Thralls, the planet known as Helheim.

Helheim was a small planet, in a remote part of the universe. Not much is known about it, not much ever was. It was peaceful, quiet, almost silent, and its people did not stray from their duties. Everyone had a role to fulfil, a job to do, and they did it without fail. And that was that. It was the home to the Skalds, sometimes considered the wisest, fairest creatures of the universe, and to the Thralls. But I'll explain that a little later, for now, let us return to Edda.


	2. Part One Chapter One

**Enthralled**

_Thanks to Leo, Harry, Emma and Callum for either proof-reading sections of writing, or for humouring me as I whinged about the plot or the characters._

_Also, thanks to AKs-on-show and ThreeOranges for the lovely reviews. I really appreciate them._

_Note: this replaces Series 7. I wrote it throughout Series 5 and 6 and as far as this story is concerned, Series 7 will never happen because this will take it's place in terms of chronology. Please don't expect a return from the Ponds or the new companion as they were not announced when I was planning this._

_Sorry this took so offensively long. Proof-reading is a pain in the butt and I've been away for ages. But that is no excuse. I'm terrible, I know. I'm sorry. I am not happy with this really, too much of it is dialogue. Initially, more was planned to be included in this chapter but it just kept getting cut down and now I feel like it's too short. It's probably fine but I am never happy with my work. Anyway, enjoy. _

* * *

**Part One**

**Chapter One**

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Edda could usually be found in her courtroom, alone if she could manage it, with only books and documents to provide company. She liked to be alone. She preferred to be tucked away in the quiet, to research in privacy. Books, she found, were much more reliable and much more stimulating then fellow skalds, and the thralls never accompanied her anywhere for they were of one kind and she of another and they held only so much interest in each other when they weren't dealing with obligations and commands. She was acutely aware of the gossiping that spread about the common people like wild fire and she chose to pay no heed to it. They would whisper how Edda was getting old, how she'd do well to find a mate and deliver a child, how it may be too late for that. The skalds if her court would inform her of this, nodding their heads to suggest that they, too, believed she should settle down. So when she shushed them and sent them away, the rumours would circulate like a disease in the blood, infecting everyone it touched.

_'Edda could only be seeing a male. She's 'alone' every day in there, she must have secret company. I only wish to know who?'_

Edda made a low humming noise, that was neither a sigh nor a chuckle but something in-between and she tapped a word on the page she examined. She would rather die, or perhaps even give up her wealth of knowledge, then commit to something common like mating and producing a family. She did not need a mate; she never had in the past and would never need one in the future. She was the highest skald, the wisest of all the skalds of their time. She was more than capable of handling herself, and she had to wonder what a male could do for her that she could not do herself, when she, herself, was the most intelligent being on Helheim? The people wanted her to produce a child who would possess her genes, her bank of information. Edda swallowed the saliva gathered in her mouth. She was one of the cherished higher skalds. She would die without heir, and Helheim would lose Edda forever. Nobody would ever rise higher than her, surely, and she would take all of her greatness to the grave.

Edda leant back in her chair, and as she stretched her back her joints clicked. She shook her wrists for several seconds, to loosen them up, before returning them to their designated places - one writing furiously and the other turning the pages of the book she studied. Edda was not sitting there to debate her lack of partner, or to mourn it. She was waiting for the arrival of a girl, the young thrall who would aid Edda in her mission to alternate the future; her mission to do the impossible. Edda did not know much about the thrall girl, she had never known many of the thralls on a personal level and especially someone as young as the girl she sought out. She simply knew it would be her, because she had seen her, in a dream, and known suddenly what she must do. She knew it to be true for it was a vision of what had not yet come to pass. The vision had awoken Edda whilst the sky was a smoky purple colour, and she had rushed to her library to write what she had seen; the thrall in the green cloak, and the box, the great blue box that was a ghost of one planet yet dressed like another. It had made Edda's hands shake as she wrote and her handwriting was near unintelligible but she persevered. For that is what a skald must do, document everything they know. Then she had called upon an idle thrall to find her young accomplice and bring her to Edda's court room, although she admitted nothing about her intentions and merely sent him on his way. Now she sat, writing all that she had done and all that she would do.

Edda heard the thrall's footsteps before she saw the creature itself. They were light, tentative, and gentle. The thrall was hesitant to disturb the highest skald, nervous and confused. Edda looked up from her notes at the thrall, seeing a young female one standing before her; a particularly young one, barely of age, if at all, and though she expected this she did not deny that she did not feel a shock of pity for the small child before her. This command would be one of the first she would receive from someone other than her own mother. She was slight, and wide-eyed, wider than most, particularly around the waist. Her cheeks were round with the juvenile fat that sank over time. Her jaw was set. She looked anxious, as if she expected to be punished. "Do not look so frightened, thrall, you are not in trouble for anything - I have not called you here to punish you." The girl swallowed the saliva in her mouth, and gazed at the skald, curious, but still she said nothing. The anxiety in her eyes did not fade, but nor did it grow. "You can speak, thrall - unless you have been ordered to silence, in which case I say forget that order and speak now."

"I have received no order, only my curiousity alone keeps me quiet."

"Then I shall satisfy your curiousity. But first, tell me how old you are, and tell me your name, in that order." For although Edda already knew, for she knew almost everything, but she still wanted to hear the girl say it herself – she wanted the girl to be able to communicate and not be gagged by intimidation, so she decided to pretend she was just as curious as the thrall was.

"150. Esne."

"You are of age, then. Just. I shall tell you what I have called you here for, but first I say sit down. A chair or the floor will do." There were three dull wooden chairs before the skald, one directly in front of her and two either side. The thrall, Esne sat at the chair slightly to the right of Edda, but not the one in front. Edda wondered just how shy the thrall was and how long it would take to break her out of it, for they did not have time on their side. "I have been blessed with wisdom greater than that of all my people - and of course greater than yours. I find that I know everything, that knowledge springs upon me in the dead of night, hungry to be appreciated, fresh to be documented. I cannot escape it, yet it suffocates my sleep and feeds from my body like a living foetus. You understand this, I am sure?" (Esne nodded, considering the matter of pregnancies and the skalds reference to it) "I know what has happened every single day in every part of the universe. I know what is happening today, right this second, the same way. The knowledge of it sneaks upon me when I least expect it. I am wise enough to know things before they have even occurred: I can read things before they have even been written, I can tell the time with no need of a dial or clock, which is why I am in my position of authority. Tell me, have you ever seen me, or spoken to me, before this occasion?"

"No."

Edda regarded the girl sat before her. She had wide eyes, a strong jaw, dark lips, and a small nose. Edda noted a small vein that ran over the bridge of the thralls nose: it was tiny, barely noticeable, but Edda noticed it. She was tall, even when seated Edda could tell as much. Esne had wide hips, and long arms, but not long legs and an average sized bosom, and atop her head was thin black hair; short, boyish, simplistic. Most hairstyles were that way on Helheim, but usually not cut so short - for nobody dedicated their lives to the profession of dressing hair so who would cut it so short? Edda knew immediately that Esne did it herself. She didn't need to think on it for too long, the haircut was so crudely done, so rough at the back, that it was really the only option.

"You're too timid. Straighten your back, so you may look down upon me. You're tall enough to do so." Esne raised herself, and indeed she looked down on Edda, who with age, fatigue and her small bones was several inches shorter than the other creature. "See, you are higher than me. I almost feel like a child in your company." Edda was smiling at the thrall, who managed a smile of her own: it was not a smile of amusement, but one of politeness and unease. "I called you here to give you a command. I know what will happen today, I've been waiting for this day for a while now, waiting for what will happen. Young Esne, I cannot say what I know, I know how you will react, and this warning alone is enough to startle you. What I can say is that we will be receiving a visitor."

Esne started at that, lips parting as if to question Edda, but she did not speak, deciding against interrupting Edda, and she settled down again. Helheim had not had visitors in about three-thousand years. The last skald to have witnessed the last occasion had died only several decades ago. It was such an independent, isolated planet, and Esne had never seen any outsiders and foreigners. She would have surely read about them, heard their stories as they were recorded, but never had she seen them.

"We do not want him here. I want you to dispose of him, before he even has a chance to enter our city's walls, or eat our food, or talk to our kind, mine _and_ yours. I give you this." Edda picked up the dagger which had rested on the desk before her, balancing it on her palms. It was a light weapon, springy almost, flexible and slick in the air. She reached over, passing it to the thrall, who hesitated for several seconds before taking it by the haft tentatively. She held the haft so the blade faced away from her. "Take it, Esne. I will tell you now what you will do. He will arrive soon, he is coming now, and I send you out to hunt him down, and to kill him. I will send a thrall for you when I require to speak to you again. Remember, Esne, that the next time we meet, I will send you to kill the Oncoming Storm. I tell you to go, and take your dagger."

Esne stared at the skald blankly as she rose from her seat, and trembled as she turned to leave. Edda watched the thrall depart, silently. The girl was trembling as she exited, and Edda half expected to hear a rattling cry, a shaking sob, or some other sound of despair from the girl as she walked through the doors, out into the crisp air outside. But she heard nothing. Of course. The thrall was stronger than that. She had more pride than that. She had not been expecting such a request, and now she had received it, she most certainly dreaded it. It was a cruel command to give someone so young, and it was the young thralls' curse that she was the one that had to do it. But it had to be her, for Edda had been haunted by visions of the time of the invasion, and she had seen the child, watched her nearly take flight as she ran with an old, green cloak fluttering behind her like wings and her hood nearly obscuring her face entirely. Yet Edda could remember the features of the girl, and knew that this young thrall, Esne, was to aid her in preventing the coming catastrophe. For when such blindingly obvious knowledge came to you in the night, you would not question it, for it was clearly and undeniably the truth. Edda returned to examining the papers resting before her, placing her hand over the sheet she read from, to hold it in place and to stop any intruders from reading from across the wooden desk. She listened for the noise of the thralls footsteps to fade out of her hearing range, whilst observing the words before her. She had to wait now, and how she loathed waiting.


	3. Part One Chapter Two

**Enthralled**

_Half of this was written in Tunisia, and I wholly believe it was the only thing keeping me sane._

_Also, ThreeOranges is my new favourite person. Thank you for the review, and I really loved the comment on how it was set up similarly to Classic Who - I did try to re-create that._

_This chapter turned out considerably longer than I initially intended because a lot of this chapter was initially meant to be in chapter one (and because I was taking so long, I cut it out and moved it to this chapter instead, which I know regret a little bit...) I hope the pacing hasn't been thrown out of the window._

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**Part One**

**Chapter Two**

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Edda sent for the thrall three days after they initially met. It was the first hour of the morning, however if you asked Edda, she would have told you it was forty-eight minutes past midnight exactly, rather than an hour. The thrall-girl was awoken by the same thrall who had initially come to collect her. His name was not known to her, but she could recognise him. He had the same tall figure, and stocky build. Most of Helheims population was tall, but he was excessively so. One might predict that the young thrall would be intimidated by him, but instead she quietly accepted that he was fulfilling a duty and she rationally decided that he had no business with bothering her. His orders were simply to take her to the Highest Skald. He could not go against that, and he had no reason to, anyway. So she followed him with no questions or resistance, and after all, she had known this was coming.

When Edda next met the thrall, it was once more in her own court room, but this time they did not sit and talk.

"It's happening?" Esne asked, voice meek, as she was led into the large room.

"Yes." Edda replied calmly, reaching an arm out as if to wrap it around the thrall's shoulders as she approached, however when the girl was in reach, Eddas arm had dropped back to her side. Instead the skald commanded the girl to follow her to a small door at the back of the room, concealed partially by shadows. She told the thrall that had accompanied Esne to leave and to mention nothing of what he knew to anyone. Then the two disappeared behind the door and into a small, dark corridor.

The corridor was fairly claustrophobic, but few of Helheims natives experienced claustrophobia. In fact, most natives had little fears at all. That is not to say they could not experience fear, but they rarely had inexplicable ones that seemed to be based on no pathological or physical evidence. Most thralls lived in small, cramped houses and claustrophobia was not an option. The skalds had larger rooms, but the corridors that connected them remained small. The young thrall's footsteps were barely audible.

Edda led Esne through a door on the right, the second door they passed. One more door lay ahead, on the left, before the corridor split like a T, but they had no business there so they both ignored it. The room they had entered was similar, in size and shape, to the courtroom; a private study, with books lining the walls. The room was made of stone, like most skald buildings, and was furnished with dark wooden chairs that looked uncomfortable. All of Eddas furnishings that provided any form of comfort were kept in rooms that she and she alone would enjoy. This room was where Edda did most of her work. She considered work and comfort to be one in the same, and so she felt that comfortable furnishings were not needed, when the books provided enough by themselves. Unnecessary luxury would be too much of a distraction, she believed.

Edda had no intention of relaxing, regardless, and they continued into the room and turned to face the right hand side of the domed room, where there was a stand occupying the space before them. Hanging from it was a green cloak. Esne had seen clothing similar to this, but they were uncommon. They were expensive, usually made of soft material, and dyed richly. Bright colours were not a luxury, but they were considered glamourous to thralls, who were quite content to simply wear shades of grey or brown. They had little need for colour so they didn't actively seek it out. So when a product was made with such colour, it was somewhat rare. This particular cloak was a bright green. Edda approached the stand swiftly and lifted the cloak.

"Stand still." She ordered, and turned to fit the cloak on the thralls figure. When Edda caught a glimpse of the thrall-girls face, she noticed the girl looked frustrated. "I order you to tell me everything that is on your mind."

Esne turned to look at Edda, an imploring expression on her face. But she obeyed. Because how could she not? "You knew all my measurements already. That reminded me that you are the highest skald and that you know everything about me. I am reminded of your power. And as you place this cloak on my shoulders I understand that I am in debt to you. That's why you're giving me this cloak that I otherwise could never afford. I've seen some thralls wear cloaks like this one before. It means you own me - it means I owe you. Because I do, how can I pay you back for this? It's a physical metaphor for the current predicament we find ourselves in. I know what this means: it means I'm a servant of the highest skald. Which could be interpreted as flattering, but I can't help but feel like it's wrong. Because I am about to kill someone."

Edda watched the other, maintaining little emotion on her own face. Edda never gave away her emotions. "Did you bring the knife?"

Esne had resumed her quiet resolve. "Yes." She grunted, stiffly, before She pulling the knife out from her belt, where she'd tied it with a leather strap to stop it from piercing the leather of her trousers and going through to her skin.

"You're ready." Edda stated. "I command you to go and find the oncoming storm, and kill him."

The TARDIS materialised on the planet in the fashion it always did - not that the Doctor fancied a change of any sort, he did love the sound the TARDIS made and the way the floor trembled. It was a homely feeling, something he was so used to now that if he was parted from it, he would feel distinctly _alone_. He was out of the door already, sweeping around the room he'd landed in curiously, inspecting it in every angle. It was typical architecture one might find in the Voluspa galaxy, particularly on the furthest planets: Helheim and Niflheim (Helheim's twinned planet). Simplistic, a domed ceiling, little variation in colour or pattern. This was Helheim, a planet he had known of for a while but never been able to visit, and whenever he was able to he seemed to conveniently forget. It was one he'd been eager to see, with its legendary libraries, and the people who kept them - the skalds. Quiet, isolated, wise beings that saw the stars every time they shut their eyes: their wisdom rivalled that of the Time Lords, but whereas his kind knew things because they studied them, the skalds only knew the basic details of the things; which they seemed to know of as soon as the event itself occurred. They just _knew_ these things, unlike the Time Lords, who, in comparison, looked like studious academics who poured over books and scrolls. It was almost infuriating; to know how easily knowledge came to the skalds, with so little effort. And yet, despite that, comfort came from the knowledge that all that the skalds knew was a glossed-over, brief summary of the event. When it came to documentation, the skalds offered no bias, but in doing so sacrificed detail. Often the people of Gallifrey would scorn the skalds, claiming that their knowledge was reminiscent of that of fortune tellers, and it was as useless. (Unbeknownst to the Doctor, and the entirety of the Time Lords, the skalds commonly referred to them as pompous, arrogant, and entirely untrustworthy.) It should be noted that the skalds and Time Lords had never met the other, only heard of, or read about them.

He had landed in a room. Or at least, it resembled a room, in that it had a door and a ceiling and windows and looked structurally secure. There was nothing in it, however, and there was nothing else even remotely captivating; but that, in itself, made the entire room, in its nakedness, exhilaratingly captivating. It left the Doctor to question the rooms' use, if it had one at all. He'd landed in the centre of a large circular stone dome - this was architecture he knew to be original to this planet, rounded rooms had little acclaim anywhere else. On the far wall before of him was a plain stone archway, curved like everything else, and leading out into a wide corridor, which ended with another archway that he could only partially see as darkness had shrouded the rest of it. The room he had landed in looked much like a giant, stone thermometer. The entirety of the corridor was shadowy and oppressive, but of course it was his way out - or rather in - into the world of Helheim, where he would meet the skalds, and the thralls, the faithful kind who lived to serve the skalds. He glanced around the room, trying to consider anything he may not have notice before, but there was nothing. But perhaps they concealed things - he had seen that been done before and it would be quite stupid of him to fall for it again. He reached into his inner coat pocket and found his sonic screwdriver, pulling it out with a flourish that was not required but pleased him greatly none-the-less. He turned it on, letting the buzzing noise burn out the silence, and he spun, darting to the walls and scanning it. Nothing. Absolutely and undeniably nothing. He turned back to the way facing out, thinking to leave now.

Somebody was there. Somebody who had never been there before, but was there now. Their features were indistinguishable in the poor light but he could predict it was a native, skald _or _thrall. Suddenly, they broke into a sprint, darting towards him effortlessly, and for a second he assumed they were going to welcome him - then instinct and common sense kicked in he was reminded that he was trespassing on their land, and however peaceful they were known to be, the skalds and thralls were still likely to feel threatened by a strangers presence. Helheim did not commonly receive visitors – and by 'not commonly' he meant 'not ever', at least, not to his knowledge. They did not expect visitors, and their nature made them oppressive and introverted. They were not sociable and he was most likely not welcome, having taken them by surprise with his unforeseen arrival. They were going to attack. He raised his hands as he noticed a dagger in the creatures' hands. "Stop!" he cried, his voice breaking out of sheer surprise. But the creature obeyed, and stopped, about an inch away from him, arm still locked in the position of stabbing him. (If he had not prevented them from doing so, he could tell, from the posture of their arm, they would have thrust the dagger into his belly.)

His assailant was a female thrall. She was also incredibly young – she barely reached adulthood. She was tall, with a sharp jaw and dark eyes. He guessed she reached the height of 5'10", based on where she reached compared to himself. Her hair was black and short, cut messily around her ears. She was not like the humans, who felt the need to make themselves as fashionable as possible. No. She was a thrall, she didn't need to look good - she was there to serve her masters, and that was all, and on this peaceful, intellectual planet, it was considered strange, and alien, to be concerned over trivial things such as appearances so much.

She had the typical appearance of a thrall, dark grey skin, with her dulled blue veins showing through the skin, scattering across her body and face lightly. Her scleras were black, instead of the usual white he was himself bore, with a golden iris which reflected the light in even the darkest of places. If she were to open her mouth, the Doctor would be able to see her sharp teeth. (Please do not assume that thralls have fangs, like vampires do in popular human culture. They have teeth similar to humans, only slightly larger and sharper due to their food tending to be a lot tougher than yours. Skalds teeth are smaller but still sharp.) She was mostly concealed by the dark green cloak she wore.

They were inches apart, her eyes full of determination, and nothing else.

"...Alright, okay..." The Doctor muttered, to himself really - for he doubted the thrall who had tried to attack him would be listening to him. He licked his lips, moistening them, moving them, to do something other than stare at the alien girl who had a knife ready to stab him. "... Uh, yes. Could you, please, just... drop the knife?" She did not move. "Right, okay - you're a thrall so you only respond to commands given as direct statements, not questions... okay, right - drop the weapon." She snapped her fingers from the handle, and the sharp instrument clattered to the ground, barely missing her feet. She did not flinch. The Doctor smiled, flexing his fingers as a bubble caught in his throat, releasing a chuckle from his lips as he gazed at the creature. He'd never had the chance to meet a thrall before, they were fascinating beings. "Hello!" He giggled, wiggling his fingers in a wave in front of her face giddily. "Tell me your name."

"Esne." Her face remained expressionless, but her eyes were cold, and aggravated. She was tense, weary. She almost looked unimpressed.

"_'Esne'!_ Great name!" _Curious name._"So, Esne, why were you trying to attack me?"

She did not answer. She chose not to… or she was ordered not to.

"Tell me why."

"I was ordered to kill you before you could cause any destruction to our home." She said, bluntly. The Doctors smile had fallen - this thrall, Esne, had been ordered to kill him, someone wanted him dead. Well, that wasn't in itself so bad, many people wanted him dead and so far, nobody had got want they wanted...

"Right. Thank you." He said, all false cheeriness gone from his tone. "Okay then, I suppose there is only one way to clear this all up." He blinked, staring hard at Esne, a small smile curling his lips upwards, to form a tiny smirk. "_Take me to your leader_."

The thrall said nothing as she turned (to 'take him to her leader', presumably). The Doctor decided that it would be best, for him, to not bother her too much with questions: she already seemed quite frustrated with him, and probably herself, as it was. And she had just tried to thrust a rather sharp looking knife into his gut. Her hands were fists at her side, and when she turned her head to the side as she lead him out of the long corridor, to glance around for anybody who might see them, he noticed her jaw was clenched. She walked entirely upright, her back straight and head held tall, however judging by the way she had stood before him earlier, he could not assume that she was so due to frustration: rather she was simply used to standing that way. If that was the case, then he wondered what the reasoning behind it were. It couldn't be comfortable to stand so upright all the time. As they stepped outside, the Doctor looked up. The sky was a dull purple colour - he must have arrived at dawn. That also explained the darkness of the room he'd landed in.

As they walked amongst the streets, which were completely silent except for the occasional cry of an infant, or, as they left the domestic area, the sound of people waking up - presumably for work, he assumed, but he knew very little of the day-to-day life on this planet. The young thrall seemed to be furious. Most probably with him. He could tell for occasionally she'd turn, and watch him, to check to see if he planned to attack her. But she did seem to be aware that he had no such intention, for she would turn back and continue walking without saying anything. He could very easily overpower her, perhaps knock her unconscious and make a run for it, but he refused to do such a thing as he wanted to see this planet, and would rather not have somebody's blood on his hands. He was not the violent sort, and the idea of hurting her (especially when her back was turned) repulsed him. However he did wonder why she seemed so trusting - well, perhaps not trusting, but she didn't go to a great effort to stop him from potentially attacking her. He decided to break the silence.

"You're not restraining me?" The thrall said nothing, and the Doctor noted that she stiffened slightly, before relaxing - most likely in an attempt to assume a calm facade, after realising that she had given herself away as nervous. She kept walking, and he kept following, and he felt more than a little unsettled at being so vulnerable. After several seconds, he had decided that she wasn't going to converse with him when she did the opposite.

"Would you like me to?"

He considered this, momentarily. He wanted answers, after all, and so did she - for that was the only reason she would have replied. She was just as curious as he was. "Do you not recognise the threat I pose to your well-being? I could-"

"No. You pose no threat. You asked for me to take you to the highest skald, so I am. So you need me. You need to see 'my leader' as you put it, and you need me to get you to her. If I am so desperately needed then why would I be attacked? That wouldn't benefit you in any way; in fact it would simply land you in even more trouble. I know you won't overpower me. You'd have to be obnoxiously stupid to do such a thing: I know you aren't so stupid, for you knew to stop me. So you know about our kind. You cannot be that obtuse."

"And you trust me not to attack you?"

"No. I trust my judgement that you would know better than to attack me. Consider that a warning." And he did. Not from her, for she did not pose a threat, but if he were to lose her, he'd be lost and left to the mercy of the locals, and he would have no way of finding his way to the 'highest skald' (the authority of Helheim, elected based on their superior intellect) or back to the TARDIS. He'd be smart to stay on her good side.

"So, then, tell me why you are angry? I'd like to know what I'm doing wrong."

"Apart from trespassing on our planet without consent? Well, you did override my command focus, and maybe that does not seem so bad to you but to us, that's disrespectful and abusive. You're overwhelming me with commands, and we don't appreciate that. There is also the fact that I was never meant to let you live this long. I will be held personally responsible for the damage you will do."

"But you're not angry, are you? You're scared. Not scared of me, no, but for yourself. Well maybe a little bit scared of me, but your highest concern is for yourself. You're terrified of what is going to happen to you and this planet and its people. You shouldn't be, for I am not a threat."

She refused to speak to him after that. The Doctor humoured himself by looking at the world around him. He felt quite exposed, despite the fact that she was leading him through several smaller, enclosed areas of the industrial part of the city. He stood out though, for he looked so completely different and his clothes were not the norm on this planet. The thrall herself wore a dark green cloak (which really resembled an Islamic niqab more than anything) which concealed most of her from view. However hers did not conceal the face, although the hood could be praised for trying. As he followed her though, and since it was so dark, all he could see was a cloaked green mass.  
He wanted to ask her questions: about the strange empty room which - was more like a stone dome than anything else - into which he had landed. He wanted to ask about her niqab. He wanted to ask if constantly being given commands gave her a headdache. He wanted to ask her about everything that sprang to mind. But he knew that she was not in the mood to reply and he had no place to be asking her at all - technically, he was her prisoner. He did not feel threatened by her, but he knew that she could make things very difficult for him. So he kept his mouth shut and instead wondered silently about all the things of this world, and anyway, she might have another knife on her and she was just waiting for the right time to pounce.


	4. Part One Chapter Three

**Enthralled**

_I actually really would love to be an author - it's always been my dream (that or archaeologist but more of the Lara Croft sort than the Tony Robinson.) So, any kind of feedback is always appreciated. If you were to share this with friends, family, colleagues, strangers, pets, whomever, I'd be very grateful. I do work hard on it._

_I actually finished this chapter a considerable while ago, and yet, despite saving multiple times, the chapter was still lost. I don't know exactly what happened but it's more than slightly frustrating. It actually upset me quite a bit since I was really happy with what I had done. How frustrating. I got a bit uninspired to write after that, hence the ridiculous wait - I apologise for how late this is._

_Also, I must again remind you that this is an Alternative Universe. This was planned and first written before series 6 had even finished. So this takes place after 'The Wedding of River Song' (as much as it pains me to acknowledge that episode) and Amy and Rory are living together in their little blue house with their fancy car and nothing of series 7 has happened in this story. No Oswin/Clara, no dinosaurs, no divorce, no Angels, and no Brian or Anthony (although I was fond of Brian...)_

* * *

**Part One**

**Chapter Three**

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Esne silently led him to a large, stone domed building that resembled the one he landed in, with the same corridor at the front leading into the main room. This one had large steps before it, as it was supported on higher foundations, suggesting that there was, or at least there once had been, something below. But he still could not comprehend what the buildings were for. He halted, momentarily, to gaze up at the building out of curiosity and wonder, but the thrallgirl continued up the stairs, seemingly ignoring the Doctor, who, upon realising he might be left behind and of course remembering that he wanted to go with the thrall, began with large, fast strides after her. The doorway was small, square, and shadowy, with little light passing from outside to the chamber within. Esne paused before entering, and for a second the Doctor assumed that she would turn to face him, and maybe even try to kill him again, but just as he pulled air into his lungs to form a command of 'stop' she began to move forward once more, not even considering him for a moment. She did not say a word.

The Doctor entered the stone chamber behind Esne, who halted almost as soon as she entered the room and silently beckoned, with a stiff flick of her wrist, which she did not even raise, for the Doctor to pass her and go on ahead. He momentarily considered whether or not she would try to attack him, and muttered "do not harm me," before doing as she had requested. Now behind him, Esne followed, her face blank as she stared at him. They had entered a large circular room that had the same shape as the one he'd entered. As they had entered, he had noticed a pair of thralls standing at either side of the doorway. They watched him curiously, and glanced at Esne with angry expressions on their faces, but the thrallgirl seemed to be ignoring them, and instead she was staring ahead. The Doctor stopped in the centre of the room, and heard Esne halt behind him. She was quite a way away from him, and refused to look at him. Instead she stared at the row of skalds, watching them wearily. For a moment, the Doctor contemplated how they might punish her for not killing him. There was a long bar running parallel to the wall, curving around as the wall itself did. Three wooden chairs sat before the bar, and they looked uncomfortable. Sat at the bar was a line of skalds, all poring over books and scrolls and writing and typing and talking amongst each other, about topics that he could not hear due to the overwhelming number of conversations all happening at once. Directly opposite from where he stood, at the centre of the bar, was a raised bench, at which sat a thin female skald, who raised an arm suddenly, despite not looking away from the document she was reading. The voices dropped, although the majority of conversations did not cease.

"Esne, what have you done?" The female skald murmured, flatly, still without looking up. The Doctor spared a glance at the girl, who had a small, dissatisfied grimace on her face, and whose large eyes were full of either terror or guilt, the Doctor wasn't sure. He turned back to face the skald; he could only assume she was the 'highest skald', the leader elected based on intellect, and their sheer abundance of it. He hoped that would be enough of a shared passion for them to be able to converse properly, and hopefully reach a healthy conclusion. He trusted she was intellectually capable of showing compassion and mercy, because he knew skalds were not violent people, and he knew his crime of intrusion was not worthy of the punishment of execution.

"Is this how you treat all your tourists - by setting young thralls on them to kill them?" He said, almost coldly. It was different with Esne; she was simply a child who was afflicted with painful, perpetual obedience, as all thralls were. This was not her fault. However this skald, the highest skald he assumed, was the one who had probably organised this and it was this skald who was now not even bothering to look at him.

"It is not often we are hosts to visitors, much less often are we victims to invasion. Yet, here you are - and still alive." She said, her voice still only slightly louder than a murmur, and her eyes still on her books rather than him.

"Yes, 'here I am', and yet you can't manage to look at me."

Her head rose, as a hand slipped from her page to rest on the table, and she turned slightly in her seat to face him, and slowly her eyes fixed themselves upon his. "Do you not know who I am? I am the highest skald, the wisest being in this galaxy. I have no need to look at you. But if you need me to in order for you to settle, then I will co-operate." She said, her small mouth curling. "I am Edda. Welcome to Helheim." She said, curtly. The Doctor was reminded of Gallifrey, and the Time Lords. How similar this all seemed to him; but it was alien, and unsafe, and this woman had nearly cost him his life. Perhaps it might cost Esne hers.

"If you want someone to do your bidding, I recommend you hire someone a little more reliable than a thrall." He said, considering all that he knew of the situation, which was painfully little. But he knew that the thrallgirl had been sent after him, with the duty of murdering him, and he knew that she had failed. He also knew that Edda was intelligent and probably behind this. "Better yet, do it yourself."

"It is the thrall's responsibility to serve the skalds. That's the way it has always been." Edda replied, simply. That simplicity stunned the Doctor.

"Did you really not consider the possibility that she could just be given a different command?"

"Of course I did. That is common knowledge, part of how a thrall's obedience works. I also know that you would know that too." She closed the book she was no longer reading, and the Doctor realised that everyone in the room was silent. "But we are straying from the point. You are the enemy, the invader, and you are still alive. Now that you are here, in front of me, I might as well put you to good use before we dispose of you. You are going to answer all my questions, and then Esne will rid us all of you before you can do any damage. But first, you will be put to service and you will do everything I ask of you." Edda rose from her seat, as Esne, not too far behind him, seemed to shrink where she stood. Picking up her skirts, Edda walked the length of the table and down the stairs with an air of someone who knew more than they let on, and was waiting for the time to unveil that which they knew. There was an air of smugness about her, the pride of someone who'd got what they wanted without any sacrifices. She approached him, withdrawing something from a concealed pocket in her skirts. "Esne, take him to the prison - do not obey his commands for freedom. Here," She passed an old ring of keys to the young thrall, who took them gingerly, as if they burnt the skin they came into contact with. "Go now."

Suddenly the addressed thrall seized him and was guiding him out of the room forcefully, her grip cold and firm on his wrists, which she held against his back in a way that prevented him from lashing out if he tried to escape. The Doctor knew better than to demand his release, or struggle - in this situation it would be inappropriate and fruitless to try to force his way out. He let himself be guided, feeling a bubbling of nerves in his stomach as he gazed around curiously.

The thrall forced him through a door he had not noticed upon entering the courtroom, and as she passed one of the thralls she quietly told him to accompany her. The Doctor was then pushed forward, through the door and lead through a corridor which lead to a 'T'. Esne did not hesitate, and turned left, to reach stairs that sank down below the earth, into darkness. "I will light the torches," said the male thrall, to which Esne gave a gentle "yes." He was surprised that he had done so out of initiative and not by an order from Esne. He concluded there must be a hierarchy even amongst thralls themselves, and that Esne, being young, probably had no right to give the other thrall commands. (Actually, she had as much right to as anyone else had, but being young and timid, she would not do so. This hierarchy was only based upon Esne putting herself at the bottom, but in reality there was nothing to legally prevent her from commanding the other.)

As the torches were lit, the Doctor was able to see the prison. It looked secure, yet unused. The bars ran horizontally, and the cells were small. The air was stale and there was a strong smell of dampness that clung to his nostrils. The cell was small, barely wider than his arm span, with a low ceiling, and the only light that he had was from the torches. There were several lit already, so he would not be in darkness, but it was still shadowy and unwelcoming, and the whole room was cool. Esne was quick to shut the cell door, and seemed to be soothed by the definitive sound of it closing, separating the Doctor from her. She locked the door with the keys supplied to her by Edda, carefully, as if the lock was delicate, but her face was disturbingly blank. The only thing to give her away was the way her chest rose and fell as she breathed. Her breathing was uneven, shallow; as if building up to something, but before it could she had pulled the key from the lock and stepped away from the door.

He could easily escape, he thought. Esne had been ordered to ignore his requests for freedom, however the other thrall had not. He could simply order the other thrall to release him, and order Esne to stand aside and do nothing. Of course, there was the chance that that plan could fail - thralls were unreliable, he thought, and getting through the courtroom and finding his way back to the TARDIS would prove a dangerous challenge. But it was not impossible. Yet, he would remain put, for now. He had nearly been killed and he wanted to know why, because skalds were not commonly a violent race, so for them to act upon his arrival in such a way meant that something larger and far more frightening was happening. Which was both exciting and terrible, so of course he wanted to know more. So he would remain a prisoner for a little while longer, and would answer Edda's questions to the best of his ability, and he would find a way to understand what was going on and, if possible and if deserved, try to help.


	5. Part One Chapter Four

**Enthralled**

_Special thanks for this chapter (and for half of the previous one) goes to my fellow students who sit next to me in the common room and/or library and who perpetually stare at my screen whilst I write, and sort through half-detailed notes on the plot and directions, and who then give me weird looks but still remain looking. That's really encouraging, thanks a lot. Please keep doing that._

_Honestly, you could at least take the time to give me a few tips on my writing whilst you're reading my notes over my shoulder. And stop acting like you're innocent when I tell you to stop. Stop doing that. I know you're guilty. _

* * *

**Part One**

**Chapter Four**

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The thrall Esne did not get a chance to see the captured Time Lord for days after. She was kept busy with tasks that really she considered unimportant given the circumstances, but she did them diligently and hoped she satisfied those around her. She was made to join the other thralls in Edda's council and home in mundane jobs, like washing and cleaning, and preparing and serving food. She often had the task of checking the libraries for Edda. She would be sent down to the library in the early morning and be made to find records of apocalypses, which she was certain now was coming and was why Edda was so frightened. She herself did not know how to react to this knowledge. She pushed it to the back of her mind during the day, and it was only at night, in her small room, that she'd start to get fearful. But she did not call for her mother, or father, to comfort her. She had to keep her knowledge a secret - she found that she was often entrusted with jobs that involved a lot of secrecy, and she had to avoid speaking to people at all costs, so she often ran to her destinations wearing her green cloak, and kept the hood up to hide her face. Jobs such as her trips to the library, and attending to the prisoner - she was the one who brought him his food. She had also noticed she was being made to constantly service the skalds, and that none of the other thralls were working as hard as she was. She felt a small sense of pride, for evidently she was the favoured thrall in that case. She also knew that that was entirely false, and that the only reason she was so much busier than the others was to prevent her babbling about things she knew, such as the man locked up below who she had helped capture.

Edda was in silent hysterics, pacing back and forth and constantly checking records, and the records of records. She was tense, and would bellow at those foolish enough to disturb her, threatening to have them locked in the prisons. She would not actually do so, of course, for hidden below in the prisons was Helheim's visitor, or intruder, whichever way you prefer to look at it, and because Edda never used the prisons otherwise. She preferred immediate punishments when absolutely necessary, but as people bothering her did not fall into this category, he threats were empty. Still, Edda was impressive and terrible enough to fear simply when she was shouting. The skald would frequently vanish and she could be found outside his cell, seeking out answers. He didn't try to escape, and he was polite to the skald when she questioned him. If anything, he was simply bored, and that frustrated the skald further. He showed no signs of fear at being made prisoner nor did he appear arrogant or threatening. He'd simply sit there, answering her questions politely. She had, upon her first visit to his cell, caught him off-guard and found him playing with a long, strange green contraption, and a colourful cube that seemed to fall apart and come together and yet remain complete at the same time. Edda ordered the thrallgirl to take them from him when she saw them in his hands. That was the first time Esne saw him after their first meeting. She had not been permitted to witness Edda interrogating the prisoner. Esne only ever visited to bring his food to him, or take away his empty bowl (and he did eat it - Edda made sure he fed the same quality of food as she herself did, and asked the thralls when making dinner to make two servings, which only further stimulated the rumours about her having a mate, much to her chagrin.)

Esne had to take the contraptions to Edda's study and leave them there, and really she was relieved when she could rid herself of them. Edda assumed that they were lethal, surely, especially the long one with the hooks that would unsheathe themselves like claws around the strange green orb that glowed and screamed when he fiddled with it. She expected there to be a button somewhere to initiate such an effect, but she did not try to look for one, for she was certain that they were definitely dangerous, and anyway, she had no desire to toy with them. Edda had not ordered her outright not to, so Esne suspected that Edda hoped the thrallgirl would get curious, and fiddle with the objects, and in doing so discover what they did, but since Edda had not outright asked it of her, Edda refused to do so. The coloured box too, she did not tamper with it. She instead had thought about the brief encounter she had of the prisoner, and how she longed to have been able to say something to him, or ask a question, or examine his face for scars or anything else interesting that might give away some shocking secret. She would have very much liked to talk to him but her fear and her obligations meant she could not. They were on opposing sides, he was the enemy - and if her hypothesis was correct then he was going to bring about the end of the world. From the start, she had known that he was dangerous, and she had only entertained his attempts at conversation lightly, mostly keeping quiet. But she knew one thing for certain, something she'd known from the moment he'd stopped her in the old court room: the prisoner was a Gallifreyan.

Esne assumed that Edda knew the same as she did. She must do, for she knew everything. But whereas Esne was excited and desperate to find out more – to watch him interact with things and see what he did – Edda remained cool headed, as if she had no idea of the power of the man locked away below. Regardless of what Helheims conception of Gallifreyans was, surely the thought of seeing one, caged up like an animal, and forced to co-operate should be both exciting and frightening for the highest skald. Esne was surprised at Edda's lack of interest. It seemed that she was devoting herself entirely to the cause of protecting Helheim. Esne, on the other hand, was involved purely because she had to obey. She was not protecting Helheim by choice. Without her thralldom keeping her involved in these matters, Esne doubted she would be capable of helping further. So, she was free to feel passionate about the Gallifreyan below, and the knowledge she could gain from him, and Edda was the one with no choice and with no alternative.

On the third day of the Gallifreyan's imprisonment, Esne found herself standing beside Edda on the grounds of the court. Edda was pacing, thinking things over in her mind, and she had ordered Esne to accompany her, as a personal handmaiden, and to stop Esne from talking to other thralls. They'd been like this for some time, Edda pacing and Esne following when needed. Little was said, and when it was, it was said discreetly.

"When will it happen, Edda?" Esne said suddenly, her voice low.

"Soon. Now we have to wait, which is something I have always detested." Edda halted, turning to look at the thrall. "But there is nothing for it. We must wait."

"Why not just end him now, would that not be easier?" Esne considered Edda's premonitions. Perhaps acting solely upon them was what might be their downfall, in the end. It certainly seemed odd, that Edda was relying on something so private as that, but yet she continued to involve Esne, and the other thrall, who had been the one to collect Esne and who had accompanied her to the prisons, now stationed by the Gallifreyans cell. Esne thought his name began with an 'A', or an 'O'. She hardly knew him, yet he was as invested in this as she was.

"I know what I am doing, and I will decide what shall happen." Edda's voice was cold. "Esne, you have grown too confident, questioning me when my intellect so clearly surpasses yours. You have forgotten that I am the highest skald, and you are a thrall. You have no place to question me." Esne felt a warm, uncomfortable ache begin to crawl its way through her body, as she blushed with embarrassment. "Go. Do not talk to any other skald, or thrall on this matter."

As Edda turned back and began pacing again, her index finger and thumb tracing her lips, Esne walked back, past the stone archway of the courtroom with an entirely free focus. She knew that if she wanted answers, she'd have to hunt for them herself. That evening, Esne wore her green dress, and returned to the Old Court Room. Esne collected her abandoned knife.

The next morning, when it was still dark, Esne visited the Gallifreyan. She went unaccompanied. The prison cell was guarded by the other thrall, with the name beginning with 'A' or 'O'.

"Tell me your name." She said, quietly, as she passed him.

"Aun," he replied, his voice deep and rolling. He wore a strange expression on his face as she nodded in acknowledgement.

"Stop him if he tries to escape, even if it means getting rid of me." She said, carefully, the last words of that sentence spoken faintly, as if she were trying to swallow something caught in her throat and did not have the strength to speak. She swallowed, breathing in deeply. "And, if that should give you any inconvenience with Edda, then tell her you had no choice – blame me and my recklessness, to defend your innocence." He simply watched her as she continued past him, to the bars of the cell, where the prisoner sat, so still he could be made of stone.

The cell was only small, barely wider than an arm's length on each side, and dark. The bars were rusty. The prison was rarely used for it was not common to send people here. The Time Lord was alone in this building, apart from Esne and the other thrall.

Esne was tentative as she walked to his cell, but he heard her quiet words with the other thrall (though not what they said) and looked up to see her approach. She stayed on her side of the bars, staring at him curiously. She had large eyes, he noticed, childlike in the way they searched his for answers to the questions she was perhaps too shy to ask, or perhaps it was simply because it was not her place to ask the prisoner questions at all. He expected her to speak, to begin seeking answers as Edda had done, but instead she simply watched him, curiously. She did not look afraid, although she was timid as she approached, as if trying to avoid making any sudden movements or noises. She had most definitely heard from Edda how much of a monster he was - and he _had _abused her command focus to save his life. He was not surprised that she would be cautious, but the fact that she had visited him _did_ surprise him. She stepped up to the bars, raising her hand to hold one of them.

"You're very brave." He commented, gazing at her, curious to see how she'd react. She had surprised him, so far, this young thrall. "According to the highest skald, I'm supposed to be the greatest evil this planet has ever faced, yet you've come to visit me regardless."

"It is not that I am brave, just that I am not afflicted with stupidity. But thank you, anyway." She stared at him, taking in every detail about his face, and body. The Doctor got the impression that he was not what she expected. They had spoken before, but only now, it seemed, was she aware of exactly what was going on. "I am not supposed to be here, however I have some questions for you, and I have realised I won't get my answers from anyone other than you." The girl was frowning slightly, eyebrows furrowed as she watched him. "And before you try anything, I have alerted the other thrall, and if you make any efforts to escape, on your own or with me, he is going to intervene and, well…" she trailed off at the end, uncertain as to how she should explain the consequences of him attempting to escape.

He smiled at her crookedly: she was an interesting young girl, out of her depth but not afraid at all. Forced into this, but not bitter. If anything, from what he'd seen of her, this whole affair had only motivated her. There was strength in her, a courage that defied her naivety. She was young, but she was also brave, and he had always found empathy for brave people. He was impressed by her, and the apparent resilience that she possessed. He just wished she wasn't amongst the ones who were trying to kill him - or, better yet, that nobody was trying to kill him at all. This situation was getting far too familiar. "What is it that you want to know?"

"I know who you are. You're a Gallifreyan, and the last of your kind – you call yourself a healer, though some texts refer to you as a soldier, or a warlock. I've heard about the things you've done. You don't seem like the kind of monster who would destroy a civilisation for no good reason, so, what is your reasoning?"

"I have no interest in destroying anything. Your highest skald has been misinformed."

She shook her head. "That's not possible."

He simply stared at her. He severely doubted Edda was truly as knowledgeable as Esne claimed - all Time Lords had doubted skalds, and she had locked him away for no good reason - he was entitled to be bitter, but he knew that Edda was not stupid, so why had she blamed him? If she knew there was going to be an apocalypse then why did she not recognise who was going to conduct it correctly? Perhaps the Time Lords had been right about skalds: their knowledge was selective and limited. It seemed that Edda only knew partially what was going on, which meant that she did not belong in the position she was in, as highest skald. However, she could perhaps know something that was going to happen in the future, that he was ignorant of, in which case, perhaps he _was_ to blame - perhaps he was going to unwittingly destroy this planet and its people in the future. He felt a little bit sick as he considered it.

"What exactly does Edda know?"

"I came here to ask questions, not answer them - and you are the enemy - why would I tell you that?" Esne retorted, staring at him in disbelief. ("And why did she employ _you_ to assassinate me?" He began but did not get to finish as she interrupted him.) "And don't try to order me to answer you." Her words sounded too harsh for someone as young as her. She did not belong here in this prison talking to him, and if he had the power to he would send her away, but he knew that if he tried to reach out to her in any way, the other thrall would come for him. So he remained seated, only half facing her. She wanted to know something, that was the only reason she had come here, and she would stay until she found out whatever it was she wanted to know.

He breathed in through his nose, smelling the damp around him. How long would he stay here? He could escape easily, hoodwink the lot of them and make tracks and be at the other side of the universe in a heartbeat. He could punish them for holding him prisoner, too, but he wouldn't - it had been done out of defense and because they, Esne and the other thrall, had been told to. He grimaced, speculating as to why he was being kept here. Edda had mentioned his bringing destruction to Helheim in her courtroom, (which was less of a courtroom and more of a room in which many, many discussions were to be had at once and the final judgement would be passed with no reference to influence it.) The Doctor had no desire for destruction. He had seen so much of it already. He was tired. He could escape, but he wouldn't because these people needed his help, whether they realised it or not. Something was going to happen, and he had to find out what. He stared up at the thrall, who looked slightly queasy, and the Doctor suspected it was due to the smell.

"So why hasn't Edda... executed you yet?" She said, gingerly.

"She doesn't seem to have any interest in executing me." He said, quietly, just as uncertain and confused aS Esne was. Edda was an unsettling enigma to him, and as Esne craved to understand him, he wanted to understand Edda - only she was not as easily accessible to him as he was to Esne. "She seems to want information from me, but surely being the highest skald she should know it all already? She wants everyone to_ think_ she wants information, but she is after something else. But killing me isn't it." He concluded.

"But she ordered me to kill you." Esne said, frowning.

"Yes, she did..." he murmured, to himself. None of this added up, and that frustrated him. "Why you? Of all the people she could have chosen to kill me, why you?" He said, louder, looking at her. Everything about this mystery, about Edda, seemed to revolve around Esne. Because Esne's involvement in this plot was what made everything so unclear. The girl had been sent to kill him, but in failing that, she had received no punishment - and though Edda had wanted him dead, now she had the chance to she was stalling.

"I have no inclination to answer any of your questions, so stop asking." She said, not coldly, but she did sound mildly frustrated.

"You don't know either, do you? That's why you've come down here - because you want to know why you've been brought into this. You've been dragged into all of this with no explanation as to why, haven't you? How unfair." He said, the corners of his lips twitching as he finally understood something about what was going on, and finally understood more about the young girl standing outside his cell. "I can't help you," he said, the small smile on his face disappearing, "but I promise you, I will find out."

She took a small step away from his cell, a strange look on her face. "Why would you promise that?" She asked. He did not answer. The Doctor knew he would get no more out of the girl, that she would not tell him the answers unless he ordered her to, which he could not do if he wanted to uncover what Edda had planned. But he could understand two things from this conversation: that the thrall, Esne, had had no choice or control over the events unfolding around her, and that she was still very much in the dark - ignorant of what was going on and why. He could not imagine her fear, walking into the blackness of something so great, so magnificently huge, that she could not see. To blindly trust because she had no other choice: the Doctor could not imagine how that felt. Yet she was not quivering and crying and hiding, despite how precarious and frightening her situation may be. The Doctor felt a small twinge of pride rush through him as he considered the girl. He had always found empathy for brave people.

Esne left after half an hour. She did not say anything as she turned and walked away. He did not expect her to.


	6. Part One Chapter Five

**Enthralled**

_First chapter uploaded in this new year. This work has taken a long time, as I started it near the end of 2011. We're getting there... slowly but surely. We're about a quarter of the way in now._

_If you do read and enjoy this story, please leave me a review telling me what you think, for I do love to receive them. _

* * *

**Part One**

**Chapter Five**

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Two mornings later at midday, with Helheim's sun, Rigsmal, bursting through intermittent patches through thick clouds, Edda requested Aun bring the prisoner from his cell to above, to the living quarters of her courthouse. She specifically requested he be brought to her drawing room. Aun had been there before, and he knew it to be a warm, circular room with sturdy, wooden chairs and a desk atop which sat a tidy pile of books. A fireplace lit the room during the cold season, and a thick rug was underfoot. It was a large room. In the day it was well-lit, and a comfortable setting in which to work - without being either too comfortable or luxurious as to distract Edda from her studies and work - but when it was late, and the torches were lit, the room was haunted by large shadows cast by the fireplace and the lit torches. When it was dark, and the one large window had no light to cast into the room, the study could be an intimidating environment. Unfortunately, it was not dark and shadowy today, but light and pleasant, which Aun did not deem appropriate for the prisoner to enjoy.

After hearing the intruder's conversation with the other thrall, the young girl, Aun had decided he strongly disliked the Gallifreyan. He seemed arrogant, as he imagined, and so incredibly different from the standards of a native of Helheim – which was to be expected, of course, but when confronted with it, Aun felt disturbed and distrustful. Aun did not share the young thrallgirl, Esne's rapt fascination with the prisoner. He did not feel the same compulsion to learn about the other, and instead he very much wanted the prisoner to be gone, through whatever means. Had his arrival been under warmer conditions, Aun might have thought differently towards the alien. Aun thought of the other thrall, Esne, occasionally, whilst guarding the prison cell, and how she had forfeited her safety in order to gain a greater understanding of the prisoner she'd helped to ensnare – although, really, there had not been much effort on their part to imprison the Gallifreyan, for he had gone willingly and had walked into the prison cell without any resistance whatsoever. But the girl, Esne, had thus far been a great surprise to him. He remembered the way she'd looked in the courtroom, when she had first brought the Gallifreyan to the highest skald. Such fear was in her eyes, and such shame. Even when he had gone to collect her when the highest skald called for her, days ago, there had only been a mild fright in her eyes, set aside by a meek resolution and trust, in what he could not tell. He would never have anticipated she'd return to the prison on her own accord, with her own personal gain in mind. She had ordered him to use her name to clear his own, and to kill her should she be manipulated by the prisoner and all so that she could learn something of why he was here. Why that knowledge mattered to her he did not know, but he marvelled at the sacrifices she was willing to make for it, her own life and innocence in particular. She seemed more like a skald than a thrall to him, so ardent for comprehension and so adamant in her convictions. A degree of affection was held in his heart for her, a mark of admiration for the girl, who was only a child, and who had so far succeeded in corrupting every first impression he'd had of her.

But the conversation he'd overheard between the prisoner and Esne had revealed some things to Aun that he had not considered before: that the prisoner doubted the highest skalds intelligence (which had made Aun stiffen grimly when he heard it discussed by the pair he guarded,) and that Edda might not intend to execute the prisoner, which made very little sense to Aun but it did explain why it had taken Edda so long to call for the Gallifreyan. It had nearly been a week, now. The day before, nobody had come to talk to the Gallifreyan, who grew impatient quickly when left on his own, and he had started to pace around the cell with a frustrated look upon his face. Aun had watched him, but he had made no effort to entertain and distract him, and instead curiously watched as the alien paced to and fro, grunting furiously every so often. Aun had instead contented himself with musing as to what might become of the prisoner, and of all of them. He had never before considered the notion that the highest skald may have lied to him, and to everyone else, and now that that card was laid on the table he found himself wondering if she had been dishonest about anything else, for he'd served her for several years now. But his loyalty was not so easily swayed, and he instead considered that the highest skald was not being dishonest, but instead, she was waiting for the right time to act, and if she no longer intended to execute the alien, it was because she'd found a better use for him. Her higher knowledge could not be questioned by his, for he was only a thrall and knew less than skalds, and certainly less than the wisest of all skalds, and perhaps of all beings in entirety.

Now the Gallifreyan was getting out of the cell, even if he was not leaving the building, which must have served as a comfort for him, but Aun was displeased at the thought. The alien did not deserve such small comforts. He should not be paraded around like a guest of honour, and entertained by the highest skald, herself. He should be treated as he was: a prisoner. He should have been dealt with by now. Aun did not doubt Edda in anyway, but he could not prevent himself from growing increasingly anxious as time progressed, and his frustrations were not soothed by the knowledge that the prisoner was to be granted the privilege of a private audience with the highest skald in her own private study, nor by the fact that Aun had to be the one to accompany him there. Aun would have preferred to leave the prisoner in his cell, or, if he must take him somewhere, then the courtroom would be their destination. The alien asked a few questions as they'd left the prison and moved up the stairs into the lighter, warmer ground floor of the court, which Aun did not grace with any answers. The pair moved through several corridors, passing through many doors at a swift pace, before they reached the highest skalds private study. Aun did not knock when he entered, and inside he found the highest skald, standing by her desk, watching the door – and the two whom entered through it – with a careful eye, as if she'd been expecting them to appear at any moment.

"Leave, Aun. Say nothing of this to anybody. I hope you enjoy your time away from guarding the cells." Was all she said, as the alien strode past Aun, towards the highest skald with a confidence that unnerved the thrall. Aun turned, wordlessly, and left the study, as commanded, but he did not walk away after quietly shutting the door behind him, as he had not been commanded. He paused, briefly, to hear the name of the thrallgirl, Esne, mentioned, not by the highest skald but by the prisoner. He had not intended to eavesdrop at any point until now, when the opportunity presented itself before him through the highest skalds lack of an order not to. Surely she was aware of his behaviour - he would be naive to assume she was ignorant of anything - yet he was compelled to listen at the door now, even if it was only momentarily and even if she knew and would punish him for it later, so he could hear what had to be said about the young thrallgirl, around which so many oddities seemed to rotate. It was her behaviour he was mimicking, her seeking out answers to questions, her endeavour to understand that he now shared briefly. He had questions of his own, not for his own personal entertainment, but for all of Helheim – what would become of it, of them, and of the prisoner? Aun enjoyed keeping himself to himself largely, but in this whole affair he had grown suspicious and he wanted answers. He wanted clarity. He wanted this all to end, and normalcy and civility to be restored. The fate of Helheim rested upon the shoulders of the highest skald, and a young thrall girl (not him, however, for he was expendable.) Or it at least seemed that way, from what he'd overheard from both Esne, and the prisoner and what he was hearing now from the highest skald.

_"If anybody could have made any impact on your resolve, it would have been her."_

_"And she'd convince me to sympathise for you all and make me stop my impending attack?_

Aun felt a rush of heat shoot through him, and he swallowed the saliva in his mouth, disturbed. He did not move away from the door, as the pair beyond it continued in their conversation, but his body stiffened as he listened to what they had to say. He was finding the conclusions to several of his questions, but he was also unearthing even more questions, and he grew ever more perturbed and bitter with every word he heard. If Helheim was truly in danger, then surely it was not appropriate to rely on a child to help defend it – and to what extent was the thrallgirl's involvement even necessary? She could have been spared, Aun thought. However the way the highest skald spoke of her made it seem like the thrallgirl was necessary to this ordeal, that there was no other way to proceed.

_"If I had to use her, and you, to do so then so be it."_

Aun leaned closer to the door,

_"Go, do what you think you should to guard her."_

She knew he was there, for she was speaking to him through the door, commanding him to find the thrallgirl and protect her. So he did, for he was a thrall and he had to serve all commands given to him – even ones given through doors. Aun turned, and retreated back the way he had come with the prisoner before, and his feet guided him to the library of the highest skalds court, for he automatically knew where to go and where to find the thrallgirl.

Esne was stood by a large shelf adorned with books and scrolls in the library of the court building, with a small, yellowing book in her hands. It had no cover, for Helheims books rarely did (or if they did, they used thick wooden plates and hardwearing cloth over the page binding) and was only slightly larger than the size of Esne's hands, yet she held it in both hands gingerly – almost cradling it – as she studied it. It was a document on the Gallifreyan, recently updated by the skalds, many of whom could usually be found sitting at desks around the vast library, updating scrolls and modifying texts. There had been a party of skalds here when she had entered, but they had since departed. The company of an excessively curious thrall was unusual to them, but they did not care enough to send her away, and many of them recognised her from around the court building, some of them were even present at the Gallifreyan's meeting with Edda, so they simply pursed their lips as they regarded her, before returning to their documentation. They had all left a while ago, leaving Esne alone with her books, which she found she preferred. Skalds and thralls never really mixed. Esne had decided to research the Gallifreyan she had helped capture, and she had been reading about his past. She had reached the part of the documentation which described the Last Great Time War, which she had noticed was distinctly less annotated than the rest of the events she had read about thus far, and the notes that were included for the Time War, were only vague. She assumed there was a separate book or scribe on the Time War, with more information there, since this book was focused more on this particular Gallifreyan – the last of his kind. What a lonely existence, she thought. She was conscious of the fact that the Gallifreyan, the Doctor, was the one responsible for the destruction of his home planet, and both belligerents. Yet, she still bore some sympathy in her heart for him, for she could not imagine a life as lonely as his, even if it was his own fault. A part of her, for which she felt rather guilty, even marvelled at his ability to carry on after such a colossal loss. She found that she didn't want to read as strongly as she had previously, now she reached this point, for she was reminded of the threat the Gallifreyan posed to Helheim.

She glanced up, slowly, as she heard another enter the library, for she was still near the door, and she was faintly curious as to who was coming in. It was the other thrall, Aun, and she stared at him with a blank face – a cold feeling of dread wrapping itself around her diaphragm as he approached her with a grim expression on his face. Had something happened? Was she to be punished by Edda? She was particularly afraid that the apocalypse Edda had referenced so much was about to begin. To the extent of Esne's knowledge, Aun was supposed to be guarding the Gallifreyan's cell, and she could not justify why he'd abandon his post unless something serious had occurred.

"Should you not be guarding the Gallifreyan?" She asked, in a hushed voice, without pausing for consideration of what she said.

"No. Edda is seeing him."

Esne shivered, her mouth agape. She caught herself, and licked her lips, moistening them before speaking again, her voice meeker now. "Is she going to execute him?"

"Stay here." And he was gone, with a determination in his eyes being the last thing she managed to take note of before he had left the library hastily.

She might have chased after him, if she could, but she was ordered to remain where she was, in the library. Her new prison. She was trapped here, until someone enabled her to leave, but she was all alone in her penitentiary, with nobody to unbind her from her current command. Had the skalds been here still, she might have encouraged them to demand she leave, so she could escape and find out what was going on, but they had left already and now she was without any means of getting out. This was her punishment, it seemed, and there was a cruel kind of irony to it. Edda was punishing her for going to see the Gallifreyan, and was imprisoning her within the library – punishing Esne's desire for knowledge by trapping her in the room best equipped to supply it, like she was mocking Esne. Esne could not deny that she felt ashamed. There was the further humiliation of Edda having sent Aun to trap her here, too. Edda, the highest skald, would not deliver the command herself, for Esne was evidently unworthy. Now, as worthless as Esne was, she could not leave her new prison, but she found she no longer wanted to read. She quietly put her book down on a nearby shelf, before sinking to the floor as gracefully as she could manage given her shame, and silently musing to herself for a moment.


	7. Part One Chapter Six

**Enthralled**

_You know, garnering reviews and support really does encourage me to continue writing this. If you could send me a comment, I'd appreciate it._

_This is another dialogue heavy chapter, but the last chapter with Aun was very introspective and quiet so this shouldn't be too overwhelming following that. Hopefully._

_So, what are people's thoughts on Doctor Who, presently? __I'll be honest: I've given up watching the new series. I detest Moffat and his writing and I just don't want to acknowledge him anymore. I've retreated back to Classic Who and am watching the Fifth Doctor, currently. I've fallen in love with Adric, and I don't think he deserves all the hate... but I'll stop babbling now and leave you to enjoy the chapter._

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**Part One**

**Chapter Six**

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Edda knew Aun and the prisoner had arrived before they had knocked, and had turned to stare at the door before Aun's knuckles came into contact with the heavy door between them. He knocked and then entered. The prisoner - the Gallifreyan - followed behind, a look of curiousity on his features. She knew him to be determined to get answers, and she knew he was incredibly confident, but she did not need any supreme intelligence to understand that – his body language gave it away immediately.

"Leave, Aun. Say nothing of this to anybody. I hope you enjoy your time away from guarding the cells." She said, not even glancing at the thrall, for she knew he would obey, and she did not need to look at him to confirm that. She also knew he would remain hovering by the door for some time, eavesdropping. As he departed, the Gallifreyan passed him, with an arrogant bluster in his step, for he thought he was in control of the situation. Though she would rather cut out her tongue than confess it to anyone, Edda knew that the Gallifreyan did have some control over the situation - more than a prisoner should, at least - for he was the Doctor, and she needed him. But Edda remained the highest skald, and she still held the majority of the power. She smirked suddenly, and beckoned for him to sit, as he approached her.

"Sit," she commanded, as his eyes glanced towards the stiff wooden chair to which she indicated. He glanced back at her, as if he had some objection to her command, and she simply stared back at him coolly, knowing that he would obey. He had questions he wanted answering, after all. He did sit, in the end, looking rather uncomfortable on the chair and squirming on it, like a sulky child who wanted to make a point by refusing to sit still. His absolute lack of modest composure grated on Edda's nerves, but she said nothing of it. It was a trivial matter, and unimportant, when she was faced with so many other matters that took precedence over the behaviour of a Time Lord.

"I presume you have questions for me, and I have some for you, so let us begin." She said, expressing each syllable slowly and clearly, as if he would not understand her otherwise. She knew he understood her speech perfectly well, for they had already spoken, and she knew his travelling machine, Time and Relative Dimension In Space, had the ability to translate most foreign languages, excluding the ancient ones, to be understandable to him. Yet, despite her assurance in his comprehension, she still felt the need to slow her speech. She did it not for his benefit, but to steady herself. Time, she found, was rapidly running out and she understood that she only had one opportunity to do what she wished to, and this was it. She felt disturbingly unprepared. For all her wisdom, and all her knowledge of the goings on of the universe, she lacked the experience which would make her capable of dealing with such issues as this. Cleverness, it appeared, was not worth the same as experience – but she'd already accepted that, which was why she was standing here with this Time Lord seated before her.

He shifted, deliberating. So many questions, which to choose? "Why her? Why Esne?"

Edda had expected his immediate interest would be the welfare of the young thrallgirl, she had already heard the question in her prophetic sleep. "You have been captured and are being held here against your will, and you are being accused of destroying our planet in the future, and you ask of her?" Edda shifted, seating herself upon a second chair, matching the one the Gallifreyan occupied. Her thoughts were on his concern for the thrallgirl. "She's a frightened, naive little girl," she continued, watching the alien before her carefully. "How could you resist? If anybody could have made any impact on your resolve, it would have been her."

"And she'd convince me to sympathise for you all and make me stop my impending attack?"

She smiled. "Children are your weakness, especially the brave and clever ones." For Edda knew that Esne was both brave and clever. Edda had never wanted children, but had she birthed any daughters, she would have hoped they were somewhat like the young thrall.

The alien squirmed in his seat. It was easy to tell he was agitated, but he also knew that whilst he remained calm and diplomatic he would have a greater chance to get information out of Edda. He was forced, therefore, to be compliant, even if he wanted to yell at her, or even throw something. If the situation was different, and if she did not feel as pressured as she did, Edda might have been tempted to test his limits, but she refrained from doing so. The Gallifreyan instead switched courses, changing the focus from himself to her. "You knew she would come to see me in the prisons."

"I did," she nodded. The girl was curious, and stubborn, and Edda had always known that she would seek out answers to her questions. "And I knew you would listen to her," she stared at him, her gaze probing, "and care for her. You are so vain, after all."

That angered him, past the point of self-restraint. No man had ever mastered self-control. "She's just a little girl; she didn't ask to be a part of any this." He snapped, standing up, suddenly, so that he towered over her. She did not fear him, however, assured by her own knowledge that he would not lay a single finger upon her, and certain that he would soon collect his composure as he remembered what it was he wanted to know from her. She leaned back in her chair, gazing up at him confidently. Under her poised scrutiny, which almost seemed playful, despite the obvious fierceness in her eyes and the tight pull at the corners of her lips, the Gallifreyan changed the focus back onto her, once more. He challenged her, animatedly swinging a pointed finger at her. "You are the highest skald, and you praise yourself on being so clever and so rational but you dumped a little girl into the very end of her own world-"

"I didn't choose her," Edda interrupted, harshly. She would not be accused of mistreating the girl needlessly - she had regretted bringing all this upon a child, but she had never had that choice. "It was always going to be her. I am the highest skald, I saw the visions, and I knew that it was her that I had to use – yes, little Esne the thrall." Her tight smile had returned. "She's so very much like you."

The thrallgirl was braver than either of them was willing to give her credit for – and smarter. They looked at her and saw how juvenile she was, for she still had the round face of a babe and large eyes that were ignorant of the darker aspects of life, but Esne was considerably stronger than most. Had she been born a skald and not a thrall, Esne might have been a contender for Edda's place as highest skald. She could have even presided over empires, and ruled entire galaxies, had she the opportunity to. She could grow up, and become a leader, but she could not, for she was only a thrall.

It was time to get to the point. The Gallifreyan had had his chance, and now it was Edda's turn. "I have seen many horrors, Doctor. They have haunted me, and I've watched them so many times, and I always knew that I could never hope to change them. I could never have that power. I only want to protect my people, which is my responsibility as highest skald, but if I had to use her, and you, to do so then so be it."

She paused, then said harshly, monotonically, as she stared at the door: "go, do what you think you should to guard her." She knew Aun was eavesdropping, and she knew that he would now depart, and find Esne and try to keep her out of harms way.

The Gallifreyan froze, staring at her with a confused and disturbed expression on his face. Of course, he was ignorant of Aun's situation outside the study. When he next spoke, his voice was soft, and after he was finished, he sat back down on his seat. The fury was still there, she could see it in the whites of his knuckles as his hands clasped each other tightly in his lap, but he restrained it now, wanting to hear what she had to say.

"What have you seen?"

By now her smile was gone, and she noted that when she spoke, her voice sounded hollow. "Darkness. The most impenetreatable kind."

"Edda, tell me."

"Our planet is to be consumed by an oncoming storm – an Ovader – and I can do nothing to stop it. There will be darkness, as the cloud befalls us, and then the world will crumble into nothingness. The whole planet will be destroyed, and I, alone, am unable to prevent this. It is why I need you, Doctor. I know who you are – you were the saviour of worlds, once. I have to implore you to help me to save this one. I confess, I fooled everyone into thinking you were the enemy for I wanted to ensnare you, so you would not abandon us. I had to keep you here, so I imprisoned you with both bars and your own curiousity, for you could have escaped if not for your desire to understand why an entire planet blamed you for something you were not to do."

He looked uncomfortable, and it was a long pause before he spoke again. "I would not have abandoned you." He said. "I would have felt more inclined to aid a planet that had not sent a child to assassinate me, actually."

"Do not lie to me, Doctor. You owe us nothing, so you would not stay for us. You do not help others anymore - not since you let your former companions go and let everyone think you were dead. I had to trap you, which was unfortunate but unavoidable. You would stay if we made sure you were involved – it would peak your curiousity, as I said - and I gave you Esne, I knew you'd like her."

The Gallifreyan halted, obviously torn between the matter at hand, and the young girl. He was utterly loyal to the girl. It was rather tragic, in Edda's view. "Where is Esne?"

"She is safe." Was all Edda said.

"Where is she?"

"The other thrall is seeing to her as we speak. Rest assured that it is not in our interests to harm her. He admires her, to a degree, and he wishes her to be safe. She is only a child, after all. But she will perish, as will all of us, if the Ovader does come. You must help us, Doctor, or we shall all die, like your own people in the last Time War. We shall all die and you will have let it happen."

The Gallifreyan fidgeted in his seat, deeply aggravated by the ultimatum she had thrust upon him suddenly. His attempt at suppressing his rage was failing, and she noted that he was trembling with all of his anger. He was being forced into helping this planet, and he loathed it because a great deal of him did want to assist them. They both knew that he had no loyalty to them, and they did not deserve his empathy after their brutal treatment of him – he'd been locked away and stripped of his possessions, and for nought. It had all been a trick. The worst part was that it had worked, and he had fallen for it, as she had expected. She saw in his eyes, the frustration at his own curiousity. Yet, despite all this, he could not now abandon them in their time of need. He had suffered so much guilt and isolation following the destruction of his own home planet that he could not bear to permit it to happen to this one too. He knew that if he denied them, and let them all be killed, he'd have to live with the burden of his guilt and Edda knew that the thought terrified him.

"You can't mention that war to me – you don't have the right!" He spat, furiously. "I don't know how to help you, and that's the truth." He sank back into his seat, weary, whilst Edda watched him. She was unsettled by his lack of knowledge, but it was clear in her mind, she was certain of it - he was going to be a saviour. She knew the truth. She stiffened.

"Will you help me?" She pried, further. "If not me, then for Esne?"

He shot her an odd look, then frowned grimly. "I will try."


End file.
